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PrintableDesireeNevermind said: NastradumasKid said: Okay, but I really meant in terms of this Solar dude and that letter... I predict either a lawsuit or an ass whuppin'. I think both will do... | |
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DesireeNevermind said: Whose idea was it to cremate him?
 Probably Solar's idea... | |
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From the Boston Globe...
My brother, Gang Starr’s Guru By Harry J. Elam Jr. | April 23, 2010 (EDITOR’S NOTE: Boston-born Keith Elam, who rose to fame as Guru, founder of the rap group Gang Starr and a person who sought to merge rap and jazz, died earlier this week. His brother, Harry, a distinguished professor of drama at Stanford, has written this remembrance). “Positivity, that’s how I’m livin..’” So goes the lyric from my brother’s early hip-hop song, “Positivity.” My brother Keith Elam, the hip-hop artist known as GURU—Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal—died this week at the too-young age of 48 because of complications from cancer. ‘Positivity’ was what he sought to bring to the music and to his life, and for me that will be a large part of his legacy. In February of this year, my brother went into a coma, and I traveled across the country from my home in California to see him. At his bedside, I stood and stared at his overly frail frame, his head that he had kept clean-shaven for the last 20 years uncommonly covered with hair, his body connected to a sea of tubes and wires. I listened to the whirl of machines around us and took his hand. As I did, my mind flashed back to now-distant times, so many memories. And I saw us as teenagers at the beach on Cape Cod playing in the water together. And I saw us as boys, driving to school. My brother was five years younger than me, so we attended the same school only for one year -- my senior year, his seventh-grade year -- at Noble and Greenough School, and I would often drive us both to school. Invariably, I made us late, yet my brother, never as stressed as me, was always impressively calm. At school he endured the jests and teasing from the other boys about being my “little brother.” I was president of the school and had charted a certain path at Nobles. But my brother found his own creative route at school, as he would throughout his life. His journey was never easy, never direct, but inventive. Through it all he remained fiercely determined with a clear and strong sense of self. Over the years I had proudly watched my brother perform in a wide variety of contexts. While at Nobles, we had a black theatre troupe known as “the Family.” In 1973, we put on a play entitled ''A Medal for Willie,'' by William Branch, and because he was only in the seventh grade, Keith played only a small role, but even then you could see his flair for performance, his comfort on the stage. At home, our older sister Patricia would teach him the latest dances, and he would execute them with verve as I watched from the sidelines, impressed with his moves, and not without a few twinges of jealousy since I’ve always had two left feet. As a teenager he raced as a speed skater. I do not remember how he became involved in the sport; I only remember traveling with my family to watch his meets in the suburbs of Boston. I do not remember if he won or lost, I do know that he always competed with great ferocity and commitment. When he announced to me that he was dropping out of graduate school at the Fashion Institute of Technology to pursue a career in rap, I thought he was making a grave mistake and warned him against it. But as always he was determined, and in the end he would succeed beyond perhaps what even he had imagined. Early on in his rap journey, he visited me in Washington., D.C., over a Thanksgiving weekend. I was teaching at the University of Maryland then, and we went to what was perhaps the most dreadful party we had ever attended. As we hastened out the door, I apologized for bringing him to this party. My brother replied “let’s write a rap song about it,” and we did. The lyrics made us laugh as we collaborated on the rhyme scheme and rode off into the D.C. night. It is one of my fondest memories, this spontaneous brotherly moment of collaboration and play. Keith’s big break came with Spike Lee’s film ''Mo’ Better Blues,'' with his song “A Jazz Thing” underscoring the credits. I watched that film over and over again just to hear my brother at its end. Soon he was on to creating his first Jazzmatazz album with others to follow, and he became credited for creating a fusion between jazz and hip hop. To be sure, that fusion owes something to our grandfather Edward Clark and Keith’s godfather, George Johnson, who introduced Keith to jazz by playing their favorite albums for him. He credits them both on his first Jazzmatazz. That first Jazzmatazz album featured musical heroes of my youth, Roy Ayers, and Donald Byrd, and here was my brother featuring them on his album. And with this success, came tours. I have seen him perform all over the world, and each time he would give a shout out from the stage to his brother and my wife, Michele. And I was so proud. It sometimes struck me with awe that all these people were there to see my brother. I watched him deal out magic; he was in his element feeling the crowd, and them responding to his groove. This was my baby brother, the kid with whom I once shared a room. The kid whose asthma would cause him to hack and cough and wheeze at night keeping me up. But when I would complain, my parents would send me out of the room. The message was clear: Love your siblings, whatever their frailties. Shorter than me and slighter of build, my brother suffered from asthma and allergies his whole life, but he was always a survivor Back in 1993, when he played at Stanford University, I was in perhaps my third year as a professor there. As I walked into the auditorium that night, the assembled audience of students looked at me with a new awareness, “that’s the Guru’s brother,” not that’s Professor Elam, but the Guru’s brother. And I was, and am, the Guru’s brother. I admired and loved him deeply, my little brother. And I was and am so proud of him, and how he made his dreams reality . And with the outpouring of love that has crowded my e-mail with his passing, I know that he touched so many with his music. My brother cared deeply about family. He raps of my parents in more than one song. They are featured on his video “Ex girl to next girl.” It was one thing seeing my brother on MTV; it was another seeing my parents. His son K.C. was the joy of his life. The doctors told me back in February that there was not much chance of my brother recovering from the coma. But my brother has always been a fighter, always been one to overcome surprising adversities, so this seemed just one more. We prayed that he would again prevail. But it was not to be. Still his drive, his spirit, his energy, his positivity will live on, and so will his music. “that’s how I’m livin…” Harry J. Elam Jr. is the chairman of the drama department at Stanford University and the author of several books, including "The Past as Present in the Drama of August Wilson.'' | |
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seriousfunk said: From the Boston Globe...
My brother, Gang Starr’s Guru By Harry J. Elam Jr. | April 23, 2010 (EDITOR’S NOTE: Boston-born Keith Elam, who rose to fame as Guru, founder of the rap group Gang Starr and a person who sought to merge rap and jazz, died earlier this week. His brother, Harry, a distinguished professor of drama at Stanford, has written this remembrance). “Positivity, that’s how I’m livin..’” So goes the lyric from my brother’s early hip-hop song, “Positivity.” My brother Keith Elam, the hip-hop artist known as GURU—Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal—died this week at the too-young age of 48 because of complications from cancer. ‘Positivity’ was what he sought to bring to the music and to his life, and for me that will be a large part of his legacy. In February of this year, my brother went into a coma, and I traveled across the country from my home in California to see him. At his bedside, I stood and stared at his overly frail frame, his head that he had kept clean-shaven for the last 20 years uncommonly covered with hair, his body connected to a sea of tubes and wires. I listened to the whirl of machines around us and took his hand. As I did, my mind flashed back to now-distant times, so many memories. And I saw us as teenagers at the beach on Cape Cod playing in the water together. And I saw us as boys, driving to school. My brother was five years younger than me, so we attended the same school only for one year -- my senior year, his seventh-grade year -- at Noble and Greenough School, and I would often drive us both to school. Invariably, I made us late, yet my brother, never as stressed as me, was always impressively calm. At school he endured the jests and teasing from the other boys about being my “little brother.” I was president of the school and had charted a certain path at Nobles. But my brother found his own creative route at school, as he would throughout his life. His journey was never easy, never direct, but inventive. Through it all he remained fiercely determined with a clear and strong sense of self. Over the years I had proudly watched my brother perform in a wide variety of contexts. While at Nobles, we had a black theatre troupe known as “the Family.” In 1973, we put on a play entitled ''A Medal for Willie,'' by William Branch, and because he was only in the seventh grade, Keith played only a small role, but even then you could see his flair for performance, his comfort on the stage. At home, our older sister Patricia would teach him the latest dances, and he would execute them with verve as I watched from the sidelines, impressed with his moves, and not without a few twinges of jealousy since I’ve always had two left feet. As a teenager he raced as a speed skater. I do not remember how he became involved in the sport; I only remember traveling with my family to watch his meets in the suburbs of Boston. I do not remember if he won or lost, I do know that he always competed with great ferocity and commitment. When he announced to me that he was dropping out of graduate school at the Fashion Institute of Technology to pursue a career in rap, I thought he was making a grave mistake and warned him against it. But as always he was determined, and in the end he would succeed beyond perhaps what even he had imagined. Early on in his rap journey, he visited me in Washington., D.C., over a Thanksgiving weekend. I was teaching at the University of Maryland then, and we went to what was perhaps the most dreadful party we had ever attended. As we hastened out the door, I apologized for bringing him to this party. My brother replied “let’s write a rap song about it,” and we did. The lyrics made us laugh as we collaborated on the rhyme scheme and rode off into the D.C. night. It is one of my fondest memories, this spontaneous brotherly moment of collaboration and play. Keith’s big break came with Spike Lee’s film ''Mo’ Better Blues,'' with his song “A Jazz Thing” underscoring the credits. I watched that film over and over again just to hear my brother at its end. Soon he was on to creating his first Jazzmatazz album with others to follow, and he became credited for creating a fusion between jazz and hip hop. To be sure, that fusion owes something to our grandfather Edward Clark and Keith’s godfather, George Johnson, who introduced Keith to jazz by playing their favorite albums for him. He credits them both on his first Jazzmatazz. That first Jazzmatazz album featured musical heroes of my youth, Roy Ayers, and Donald Byrd, and here was my brother featuring them on his album. And with this success, came tours. I have seen him perform all over the world, and each time he would give a shout out from the stage to his brother and my wife, Michele. And I was so proud. It sometimes struck me with awe that all these people were there to see my brother. I watched him deal out magic; he was in his element feeling the crowd, and them responding to his groove. This was my baby brother, the kid with whom I once shared a room. The kid whose asthma would cause him to hack and cough and wheeze at night keeping me up. But when I would complain, my parents would send me out of the room. The message was clear: Love your siblings, whatever their frailties. Shorter than me and slighter of build, my brother suffered from asthma and allergies his whole life, but he was always a survivor Back in 1993, when he played at Stanford University, I was in perhaps my third year as a professor there. As I walked into the auditorium that night, the assembled audience of students looked at me with a new awareness, “that’s the Guru’s brother,” not that’s Professor Elam, but the Guru’s brother. And I was, and am, the Guru’s brother. I admired and loved him deeply, my little brother. And I was and am so proud of him, and how he made his dreams reality . And with the outpouring of love that has crowded my e-mail with his passing, I know that he touched so many with his music. My brother cared deeply about family. He raps of my parents in more than one song. They are featured on his video “Ex girl to next girl.” It was one thing seeing my brother on MTV; it was another seeing my parents. His son K.C. was the joy of his life. The doctors told me back in February that there was not much chance of my brother recovering from the coma. But my brother has always been a fighter, always been one to overcome surprising adversities, so this seemed just one more. We prayed that he would again prevail. But it was not to be. Still his drive, his spirit, his energy, his positivity will live on, and so will his music. “that’s how I’m livin…” Harry J. Elam Jr. is the chairman of the drama department at Stanford University and the author of several books, including "The Past as Present in the Drama of August Wilson.'' I thought dude was 43 going on 44!!!!???  Anyway, that's a very touching letter/response. I wish for the best for Gu's family. | |
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NastradumasKid said: DesireeNevermind said: I predict either a lawsuit or an ass whuppin'. I think both will do... i hear ya. | |
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edited [Edited 4/23/10 21:23pm] | |
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NastradumasKid said: seriousfunk said: From the Boston Globe...
My brother, Gang Starr’s Guru By Harry J. Elam Jr. | April 23, 2010 (EDITOR’S NOTE: Boston-born Keith Elam, who rose to fame as Guru, founder of the rap group Gang Starr and a person who sought to merge rap and jazz, died earlier this week. His brother, Harry, a distinguished professor of drama at Stanford, has written this remembrance). “Positivity, that’s how I’m livin..’” So goes the lyric from my brother’s early hip-hop song, “Positivity.” My brother Keith Elam, the hip-hop artist known as GURU—Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal—died this week at the too-young age of 48 because of complications from cancer. ‘Positivity’ was what he sought to bring to the music and to his life, and for me that will be a large part of his legacy. In February of this year, my brother went into a coma, and I traveled across the country from my home in California to see him. At his bedside, I stood and stared at his overly frail frame, his head that he had kept clean-shaven for the last 20 years uncommonly covered with hair, his body connected to a sea of tubes and wires. I listened to the whirl of machines around us and took his hand. As I did, my mind flashed back to now-distant times, so many memories. And I saw us as teenagers at the beach on Cape Cod playing in the water together. And I saw us as boys, driving to school. My brother was five years younger than me, so we attended the same school only for one year -- my senior year, his seventh-grade year -- at Noble and Greenough School, and I would often drive us both to school. Invariably, I made us late, yet my brother, never as stressed as me, was always impressively calm. At school he endured the jests and teasing from the other boys about being my “little brother.” I was president of the school and had charted a certain path at Nobles. But my brother found his own creative route at school, as he would throughout his life. His journey was never easy, never direct, but inventive. Through it all he remained fiercely determined with a clear and strong sense of self. Over the years I had proudly watched my brother perform in a wide variety of contexts. While at Nobles, we had a black theatre troupe known as “the Family.” In 1973, we put on a play entitled ''A Medal for Willie,'' by William Branch, and because he was only in the seventh grade, Keith played only a small role, but even then you could see his flair for performance, his comfort on the stage. At home, our older sister Patricia would teach him the latest dances, and he would execute them with verve as I watched from the sidelines, impressed with his moves, and not without a few twinges of jealousy since I’ve always had two left feet. As a teenager he raced as a speed skater. I do not remember how he became involved in the sport; I only remember traveling with my family to watch his meets in the suburbs of Boston. I do not remember if he won or lost, I do know that he always competed with great ferocity and commitment. When he announced to me that he was dropping out of graduate school at the Fashion Institute of Technology to pursue a career in rap, I thought he was making a grave mistake and warned him against it. But as always he was determined, and in the end he would succeed beyond perhaps what even he had imagined. Early on in his rap journey, he visited me in Washington., D.C., over a Thanksgiving weekend. I was teaching at the University of Maryland then, and we went to what was perhaps the most dreadful party we had ever attended. As we hastened out the door, I apologized for bringing him to this party. My brother replied “let’s write a rap song about it,” and we did. The lyrics made us laugh as we collaborated on the rhyme scheme and rode off into the D.C. night. It is one of my fondest memories, this spontaneous brotherly moment of collaboration and play. Keith’s big break came with Spike Lee’s film ''Mo’ Better Blues,'' with his song “A Jazz Thing” underscoring the credits. I watched that film over and over again just to hear my brother at its end. Soon he was on to creating his first Jazzmatazz album with others to follow, and he became credited for creating a fusion between jazz and hip hop. To be sure, that fusion owes something to our grandfather Edward Clark and Keith’s godfather, George Johnson, who introduced Keith to jazz by playing their favorite albums for him. He credits them both on his first Jazzmatazz. That first Jazzmatazz album featured musical heroes of my youth, Roy Ayers, and Donald Byrd, and here was my brother featuring them on his album. And with this success, came tours. I have seen him perform all over the world, and each time he would give a shout out from the stage to his brother and my wife, Michele. And I was so proud. It sometimes struck me with awe that all these people were there to see my brother. I watched him deal out magic; he was in his element feeling the crowd, and them responding to his groove. This was my baby brother, the kid with whom I once shared a room. The kid whose asthma would cause him to hack and cough and wheeze at night keeping me up. But when I would complain, my parents would send me out of the room. The message was clear: Love your siblings, whatever their frailties. Shorter than me and slighter of build, my brother suffered from asthma and allergies his whole life, but he was always a survivor Back in 1993, when he played at Stanford University, I was in perhaps my third year as a professor there. As I walked into the auditorium that night, the assembled audience of students looked at me with a new awareness, “that’s the Guru’s brother,” not that’s Professor Elam, but the Guru’s brother. And I was, and am, the Guru’s brother. I admired and loved him deeply, my little brother. And I was and am so proud of him, and how he made his dreams reality . And with the outpouring of love that has crowded my e-mail with his passing, I know that he touched so many with his music. My brother cared deeply about family. He raps of my parents in more than one song. They are featured on his video “Ex girl to next girl.” It was one thing seeing my brother on MTV; it was another seeing my parents. His son K.C. was the joy of his life. The doctors told me back in February that there was not much chance of my brother recovering from the coma. But my brother has always been a fighter, always been one to overcome surprising adversities, so this seemed just one more. We prayed that he would again prevail. But it was not to be. Still his drive, his spirit, his energy, his positivity will live on, and so will his music. “that’s how I’m livin…” Harry J. Elam Jr. is the chairman of the drama department at Stanford University and the author of several books, including "The Past as Present in the Drama of August Wilson.'' I thought dude was 43 going on 44!!!!??? Anyway, that's a very touching letter/response. I wish for the best for Gu's family.that's a tight letter. My Condolences to the family 
one of my favorite tracks from "Step Into The Arena" is "Here Today,Gone Tomorrow" "y-y-y-you wack M.C's, h-h-h-ha ha see ya later"  | |
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NastradumasKid said: seriousfunk said: From the Boston Globe...
My brother, Gang Starr’s Guru By Harry J. Elam Jr. | April 23, 2010 (EDITOR’S NOTE: Boston-born Keith Elam, who rose to fame as Guru, founder of the rap group Gang Starr and a person who sought to merge rap and jazz, died earlier this week. His brother, Harry, a distinguished professor of drama at Stanford, has written this remembrance). “Positivity, that’s how I’m livin..’” So goes the lyric from my brother’s early hip-hop song, “Positivity.” My brother Keith Elam, the hip-hop artist known as GURU—Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal—died this week at the too-young age of 48 because of complications from cancer. ‘Positivity’ was what he sought to bring to the music and to his life, and for me that will be a large part of his legacy. In February of this year, my brother went into a coma, and I traveled across the country from my home in California to see him. At his bedside, I stood and stared at his overly frail frame, his head that he had kept clean-shaven for the last 20 years uncommonly covered with hair, his body connected to a sea of tubes and wires. I listened to the whirl of machines around us and took his hand. As I did, my mind flashed back to now-distant times, so many memories. And I saw us as teenagers at the beach on Cape Cod playing in the water together. And I saw us as boys, driving to school. My brother was five years younger than me, so we attended the same school only for one year -- my senior year, his seventh-grade year -- at Noble and Greenough School, and I would often drive us both to school. Invariably, I made us late, yet my brother, never as stressed as me, was always impressively calm. At school he endured the jests and teasing from the other boys about being my “little brother.” I was president of the school and had charted a certain path at Nobles. But my brother found his own creative route at school, as he would throughout his life. His journey was never easy, never direct, but inventive. Through it all he remained fiercely determined with a clear and strong sense of self. Over the years I had proudly watched my brother perform in a wide variety of contexts. While at Nobles, we had a black theatre troupe known as “the Family.” In 1973, we put on a play entitled ''A Medal for Willie,'' by William Branch, and because he was only in the seventh grade, Keith played only a small role, but even then you could see his flair for performance, his comfort on the stage. At home, our older sister Patricia would teach him the latest dances, and he would execute them with verve as I watched from the sidelines, impressed with his moves, and not without a few twinges of jealousy since I’ve always had two left feet. As a teenager he raced as a speed skater. I do not remember how he became involved in the sport; I only remember traveling with my family to watch his meets in the suburbs of Boston. I do not remember if he won or lost, I do know that he always competed with great ferocity and commitment. When he announced to me that he was dropping out of graduate school at the Fashion Institute of Technology to pursue a career in rap, I thought he was making a grave mistake and warned him against it. But as always he was determined, and in the end he would succeed beyond perhaps what even he had imagined. Early on in his rap journey, he visited me in Washington., D.C., over a Thanksgiving weekend. I was teaching at the University of Maryland then, and we went to what was perhaps the most dreadful party we had ever attended. As we hastened out the door, I apologized for bringing him to this party. My brother replied “let’s write a rap song about it,” and we did. The lyrics made us laugh as we collaborated on the rhyme scheme and rode off into the D.C. night. It is one of my fondest memories, this spontaneous brotherly moment of collaboration and play. Keith’s big break came with Spike Lee’s film ''Mo’ Better Blues,'' with his song “A Jazz Thing” underscoring the credits. I watched that film over and over again just to hear my brother at its end. Soon he was on to creating his first Jazzmatazz album with others to follow, and he became credited for creating a fusion between jazz and hip hop. To be sure, that fusion owes something to our grandfather Edward Clark and Keith’s godfather, George Johnson, who introduced Keith to jazz by playing their favorite albums for him. He credits them both on his first Jazzmatazz. That first Jazzmatazz album featured musical heroes of my youth, Roy Ayers, and Donald Byrd, and here was my brother featuring them on his album. And with this success, came tours. I have seen him perform all over the world, and each time he would give a shout out from the stage to his brother and my wife, Michele. And I was so proud. It sometimes struck me with awe that all these people were there to see my brother. I watched him deal out magic; he was in his element feeling the crowd, and them responding to his groove. This was my baby brother, the kid with whom I once shared a room. The kid whose asthma would cause him to hack and cough and wheeze at night keeping me up. But when I would complain, my parents would send me out of the room. The message was clear: Love your siblings, whatever their frailties. Shorter than me and slighter of build, my brother suffered from asthma and allergies his whole life, but he was always a survivor Back in 1993, when he played at Stanford University, I was in perhaps my third year as a professor there. As I walked into the auditorium that night, the assembled audience of students looked at me with a new awareness, “that’s the Guru’s brother,” not that’s Professor Elam, but the Guru’s brother. And I was, and am, the Guru’s brother. I admired and loved him deeply, my little brother. And I was and am so proud of him, and how he made his dreams reality . And with the outpouring of love that has crowded my e-mail with his passing, I know that he touched so many with his music. My brother cared deeply about family. He raps of my parents in more than one song. They are featured on his video “Ex girl to next girl.” It was one thing seeing my brother on MTV; it was another seeing my parents. His son K.C. was the joy of his life. The doctors told me back in February that there was not much chance of my brother recovering from the coma. But my brother has always been a fighter, always been one to overcome surprising adversities, so this seemed just one more. We prayed that he would again prevail. But it was not to be. Still his drive, his spirit, his energy, his positivity will live on, and so will his music. “that’s how I’m livin…” Harry J. Elam Jr. is the chairman of the drama department at Stanford University and the author of several books, including "The Past as Present in the Drama of August Wilson.'' I thought dude was 43 going on 44!!!!??? Anyway, that's a very touching letter/response. I wish for the best for Gu's family.Doo-Wop who toured with Guru as Guru's DJ post-Premier had copies of both Guru & dude who's name I will not say passports and published a scan of Guru's online. Guru was born July (I think) 1961. He wanted folks to think he was younger than he was which is understandable. I mean Guru could legally drink in clubs in NYC around the time the Sugarhill Gang dropped their first record. | |
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That was a very touching tribute from his brother. I pray his family finds the peace and strength they need. 
I just found out that they grew up in the Roxbury neighborhood where my family is from. I haven't lived there since I was two but I talked to my cousin today and he told me that on the day of Guru's passing that you couldn't go anywhere in the 'hood without hearing Gangstarr's music blasting from houses and cars. He said some folks had even pulled out their old Boom Boxes and were just walking around letting the Guru flow as only he and DJ Premiere could. I don't think Solar would have liked that but tough shit!!!  I knew from the start that I loved you with all my heart. | |
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seriousfunk said: NastradumasKid said: I thought dude was 43 going on 44!!!!??? Anyway, that's a very touching letter/response. I wish for the best for Gu's family.Doo-Wop who toured with Guru as Guru's DJ post-Premier had copies of both Guru & dude who's name I will not say passports and published a scan of Guru's online. Guru was born July (I think) 1961. He wanted folks to think he was younger than he was which is understandable. I mean Guru could legally drink in clubs in NYC around the time the Sugarhill Gang dropped their first record. Oh okay thanks for clearing that up. I mean, I guess that's cool. | |
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HatrinaHaterwitz said: That was a very touching tribute from his brother. I pray his family finds the peace and strength they need.
I just found out that they grew up in the Roxbury neighborhood where my family is from. I haven't lived there since I was two but I talked to my cousin today and he told me that on the day of Guru's passing that you couldn't go anywhere in the 'hood without hearing Gangstarr's music blasting from houses and cars. He said some folks had even pulled out their old Boom Boxes and were just walking around letting the Guru flow as only he and DJ Premiere could. I don't think Solar would have liked that but tough shit!!! On many Gangstarr videos you'll see many comments says, "Fuck Solar!"  | |
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NastradumasKid said: HatrinaHaterwitz said: That was a very touching tribute from his brother. I pray his family finds the peace and strength they need.
I just found out that they grew up in the Roxbury neighborhood where my family is from. I haven't lived there since I was two but I talked to my cousin today and he told me that on the day of Guru's passing that you couldn't go anywhere in the 'hood without hearing Gangstarr's music blasting from houses and cars. He said some folks had even pulled out their old Boom Boxes and were just walking around letting the Guru flow as only he and DJ Premiere could. I don't think Solar would have liked that but tough shit!!! On many Gangstarr videos you'll see many comments says, "Fuck Solar!" Oh I know, I've seen those comments EVERYWHERE there's any mention of Guru! I'm sure Suge Knight is somewhere going it's about damn time somebody is more hated in Hip Hop than I am.
. [Edited 4/23/10 21:59pm] I knew from the start that I loved you with all my heart. | |
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HatrinaHaterwitz said: NastradumasKid said: On many Gangstarr videos you'll see many comments says, "Fuck Solar!" Oh I know, I've seen those comments EVERYWHERE there's any mention of Guru! I'm sure Suge Knight is somewhere going it's about damn time somebody is more hated in Hip Hop than I am.
. [Edited 4/23/10 21:59pm] I bet he is!!! I wouldn't be surprised. Fuck fucking Solar's fucking ass, that stupid muthafucka! | |
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RIP Guru
Gang Starr PRINCE: Always and Forever
MICHAEL JACKSON: Always and Forever ----- Live Your Life How U Wanna Live It | |
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LittleBLUECorvette said: RIP Guru
Gang Starr Fuck Solar... | |
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HatrinaHaterwitz said: ...LOTS of people prey on the sick, cut them off from their families so that they are dependent upon them, manipulate situations to their own advantage, make sure there are no reconciliations between estranged family and friends, and get themselves made sole beneficiaries of any fortune, insurance and foundations. There is nothing new nor unique about that either.
I've been thinking about this since I read it yesterday, and it's a very accurate description of a very scary phenomenon. I have witnessed this type of thing personally, but if I hadn't read it here, as clearly as you stated it, I could have been convinced that I had just imagined it. But it's real. And the people that manipulate others in this way succeed by passing themselves off as a friend who is looking out for the best interest of their ailing friend. I appreciate the way you've spelled this out so articulately, as it's helped me to put 2+2 together in regards to a personal situation I had been involved with.  | |
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"THERE AIN'T NO SUNSHINE WHEN I'M GONE" (Brainstorm)
 
OMG! I didn't know... I keep very good memories to this man. Witnessed two shows, one was the record release after party in New York City, back in August 1995, Jazzmatazz Volume II. What a show, what an experience! Second time was here, at the local club Effenaar (LIGHT TOWN THE CRAZIEST!) on March 10th 2006. Front row, it was 'get freaky, let your head bow'. Even shook hands! If there's a heaven, what a All Star Band they have one day!  
[source: mine, from the March 10th 2006 concert] [Edited 4/24/10 14:49pm] | |
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Cinnie said: By the way, this thread made me realize there ARE real fans of hip hop on the org!
I felt better about making a thread about my album.  I didn't know that many people knew who Guru was.  "It's not nice to fuck with K.B.! All you haters will see!" - Kitbradley
"The only true wisdom is knowing you know nothing." - Socrates | |
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PDogz said: HatrinaHaterwitz said: ...LOTS of people prey on the sick, cut them off from their families so that they are dependent upon them, manipulate situations to their own advantage, make sure there are no reconciliations between estranged family and friends, and get themselves made sole beneficiaries of any fortune, insurance and foundations. There is nothing new nor unique about that either.
I've been thinking about this since I read it yesterday, and it's a very accurate description of a very scary phenomenon. I have witnessed this type of thing personally, but if I hadn't read it here, as clearly as you stated it, I could have been convinced that I had just imagined it. But it's real. And the people that manipulate others in this way succeed by passing themselves off as a friend who is looking out for the best interest of their ailing friend. I appreciate the way you've spelled this out so articulately, as it's helped me to put 2+2 together in regards to a personal situation I had been involved with. I'm glad I could help.  I knew from the start that I loved you with all my heart. | |
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kitbradley said: Cinnie said: By the way, this thread made me realize there ARE real fans of hip hop on the org!
I felt better about making a thread about my album. I didn't know that many people knew who Guru was. Neither did I!!!!!  | |
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seriousfunk said: Damn!!!! Already... | |
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seriousfunk said: So hip hop  | |
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/// [Edited 4/25/10 8:01am] | |
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I love his music, may he rest in peace. "So fierce U look 2night, the brightest star pales 2 Ur sex..." | |
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I'd be interested to know the date of the letter and if it were notarized. The family's statement acknowledges he was ill prior to going into a coma. If he wrote that prior to the coma, some of you all are gonna be eating crow.
Now, I am done with this thread. Space for sale... | |
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sosgemini said: I'd be interested to know the date of the letter and if it were notarized.
I'd also be interested in knowing if the handwriting was analyzed (...assuming it was hand-written). | |
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sosgemini said: I'd be interested to know the date of the letter and if it were notarized. The family's statement acknowledges he was ill prior to going into a coma. If he wrote that prior to the coma, some of you all are gonna be eating crow.
Now, I am done with this thread.  I'd be interested in finding that out myself.
My suspicion of Solar is not unfounded nor baseless because on March 3, 2010, Solar issued a statement that was "supposedly" from Guru stating the following: http://www.allhiphop.com/...38931.aspx "I am doing fine and I am recovering! I'm weak though,” Guru told AllHipHop.com in a statement today. “Solar is the only person who has the accurate info on my situation. Any info from anybody else is false! I appreciate your well wishes and all the love!"
This was written in the first person. As in Guru, himself, made it at that time. Not as in someone saying that this is what Guru would want to say, if he could. Now...when putting this out, Solar, himself, made this statement: "Guru is resting and doing well after his surgery,” Solar told AllHipHop.com. “The doctors say that he will fully recover from his illness. We thank everyone who send prayers our way and we appreciate the outpouring of love from around the world!”
If Guru, as his family has repeatedly stated and continue to state and should KNOW for SURE, by now: Guru was in a coma from mid February until his death and never regained consciousness.
Then the statement that Solar released on March 3rd, could not have possibly been true and was NOT from Guru. Which gives me a reasonable doubt about that so called "letter". If the letter is legitimate, "notarized" and such, that would actually be a good thing because the problem isn't with if I'm wrong. I can be wrong and have to eat crow or whatnot. 
The problem is with if I'm right!
. [Edited 4/26/10 2:55am] I knew from the start that I loved you with all my heart. | |
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PDogz said: sosgemini said: I'd be interested to know the date of the letter and if it were notarized.
I'd also be interested in knowing if the handwriting was analyzed (...assuming it was hand-written). You guys, Solar said that the letter was composed of hand written notes Guru dictated to him. So, right there you know it's not Guru's handwriting. I think folks are going to have to trust him. Guru was calling DJ Premier "my ex-DJ" back in 2009... Solar didn't want to tear down Premier.... Guru did. I know it's a difficult pill to swallow. | |
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Cinnie said: PDogz said: I'd also be interested in knowing if the handwriting was analyzed (...assuming it was hand-written). You guys, Solar said that the letter was composed of hand written notes Guru dictated to him. So, right there you know it's not Guru's handwriting. I think folks are going to have to trust him. Guru was calling DJ Premier "my ex-DJ" back in 2009... Solar didn't want to tear down Premier.... Guru did. I know it's a difficult pill to swallow. Believe what you want but what I've always KNOWN to be TRUE is...time tells all tales! 
http://www.birthplacemag....questions/ Guru Charity Not Guru’s: Linked To Solar’s Wife, May Not Be Valid Non-Profit by Birthplace Magazine on April 26, 2010 in Bronx, Brooklyn, Featured, Full Features, Long Island, Manhattan, Opinion, Queens, Staten Island, Upstate/NJ/Conn. It's a very detailed article but I'm only going to post one of the lesser interesting parts. You can go and read the rest for yourselves! 
As we reported, there are two non-profit organizations listed with the Internal Revenue Service named “Each One Counts”. The first, Each One Counts Foundation, Inc., was founded by former Villanova basketball player Brian Harrington and assistant coach Doug West and raises funds to help “ease the physical pain and suffering of terminally ill children who are receiving pediatric hospice or palliative care.” Despite several blogs, fans, and other sources linking to this foundation in reference to the Guru “farewell letter to fans”, it has become clear that this is not in fact the foundation in question.
As we also reported, the other foundation, Each One Counts, Inc., lists very little public information on record. This is somewhat abnormal for a non-profit organization, which is required by federal law to file particular tax records which are usually available for public review. In the case of Each One Counts, Inc., the only public information was the name the foundation is listed under, Denise Sandoval, and the address, 119 Rockland Ctr, #328, Nanuet, NY 10954. Denise Sandoval is also known as Denise Mosher. Denise Mosher is the wife of John Mosher, aka Solar. The address is a UPS Store. . [Edited 4/26/10 11:21am] I knew from the start that I loved you with all my heart. | |
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